


Nothing

by xpunkstylesx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:00:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpunkstylesx/pseuds/xpunkstylesx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She left him without explanation and all he knows is that vodka helps and her name still tastes sweet (based off of Nothing, by the Script).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

_My dearest Niall, I understand that as you read this, confusion must be filling your mind and you’re probably doing that scrunchy eye thing, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. So I guess this is the easiest way for me to tell you, albeit selfish. Niall, you are the deepest and most meaningful love I was lucky enough to experience in my short life. You mean to so much to me, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words how much your love meant to me. But I can’t do this anymore, pretending I don’t miss you when out of 12 months in a year, I only see you a scarce 4. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, but it’s over. x, (Y/N)_

I read the letter over and over, not able to accept the words scribbled on the paper. It had been two weeks since I had first tried to absorb her message, which had been further reinforced by the lack of her belongings around our flat. I had come back from tour, a heavy bag on my shoulder, excited to see her and her smiling face, happy to have the chance to surprise her for once. I spent 20 minutes aimlessly shouting her name throughout the flat before I saw the note, before my world came crashing down.   
My mates didn’t understand, they didn’t believe me when I said she was it, she was the one I was supposed to marry. Consequently, they barged into my large apartment, forcing me to ‘get dressed’ and get ready for a ‘night on the town’. I tried to protest, knowing it was useless, knowing they would get me to the pub whether I volunteered to move or not.   
I took my time, not in the mood to go out and not in the mood to leave my broken home. My spot on the couch had been the only place I’d been in two weeks, so why the hell would I suddenly feel the need to get up and interact with the outside world?  
Reluctantly, I stepped out to face the boys, hoping they would decide I wasn’t decent enough to go out, but sadly, Louis deemed me well enough, and we headed out. 

**They say I’m better off now than I ever was with her. As they take me to my local down the street, I’m smiling but I’m dying trying not to drag my feet.**

I tried to bar my ears, tried to block out their tired reasoning, trying to tell me that I was free, I was better off, but I knew it was all lies. How was I better off when I couldn’t move, couldn’t think right, without her?   
When I did let in their pointless speech, I made a pretense of agreeing, smiling and nodding, forcing out a laugh at all the right parts: the perfect little robot.   
Booze. Booze and nicotine. That was all you could smell in the small pub, ironically named “The Broken Hearts Club”. It was dark, somewhat dingy, but there was a familiar feel to it; a warm, cozy environment that would welcome me and all my troubles.   
Liam ordered a round of shots, something he’d always get excited about, what with his kidney and such. The guy behind the bar grunted, acknowledging he’d heard, and I snatched the small glass when it was slammed down in front of me. I threw my head back, savoring the cold liquid as it burned down my throat-the perfect contradiction.   
The shot gave me a buzz, almost non existent, but it made me feel something other than pain for the first time in weeks. Intrigued by it, I requested another one, wanting to feel something else. 

**…‘cause I’m shouting your name all over town; I’m swearing if I go there now, I could change your mind turn it all around.**

Hope. Every shot glass I consumed filled my bloodstream and got to my head, twisting my perspective and giving me the drive to win her back. Yeah, so she left. But who cares? I knew where she was, and I’m sure that if she just sees me, she’ll remember what we had, and she’ll realize her mistake.   
I muttered something about leaving and going to find her to the guys, who were all about as drunk as I was, and stumbled out, leaning on chairs and walls to retain my balance. I lazily pushed the door open, enjoying the chill it brought, and stepped out, energized and ready to complete my mission.   
The sky was dark, stars appearing here and there, but I ignored the beauty of the moment, having only one thought on my mind: her. 

**Every drunk step I take leads me to her door; if she sees how much I’m hurting, she’ll take me back for sure.**

I spot the street sign in the dark, only slightly illuminated by a street light, and started shouting her name, hoping she’d somehow hear me. I found myself suddenly hoping that for once, white pages hadn’t failed me, that I had truly found her house, feeling a hole burn in my soul with yearning to see her again.  
I lumbered towards the small side street, falling a couple times as my foot caught the uneven concrete below me. I turned left, groaning when I saw the number 13, remembering her house was 157. My determination wavered slightly, knees aching and shins bleeding, but I waved it off, letting her warm smile convince me to keep going forward.   
The road seemed long, but as I clutched another light pole, excitement surged through me when I saw house 101, heart fluttering against my rib cage.

**And my mates are all there trying to calm me down ‘cause I’m shouting your name all over town.**

I propelled forward, target in mind, when a strong hand wrapped around my bicep, stopping me from going forward.   
“What are you doing?” I was sure Zayn’s smooth voice had begged the question, but I saw it more in Liam’s wide eyes, concern flooding them. I grinned, spitting out the answer, before resuming name calling, trying to persevere in my search.  
Zayn’s hand wrapped even tighter, and I tried to struggle out of his grip, eyes widening when I realized a bruise could be seen slowly forming. I caught Zayn’s eye, a hint of disapproval and sympathy tinging them, and lowered my voice, begging for my release, anger filling me when he shook his head.  
“She’s the one! Do you not understand? Bugger off!” I spit out, finally twisting my arm out of his tight grip. I ran away, stumbling but always picking myself up, knowing if I stopped, Zayn and Liam would definitely hold me back and drag me back to the pub, only to find Harry and Louis drinking themselves silly, a sight that I didn’t find as exciting as (Y/N).   
Finally, I saw the number, the big shiny 157, and I gasped, running towards the imposing lacquered door, knocking desperately. I shouted her name, alcohol spurring me on, every cell in my body fizzing with excitement.   
The door finally swung open, just in time too, Zayn and Liam standing at the bottom of the stairs, frozen, as though waiting to see the final outcome.   
(Y/N)’s face peered out at me, shock scrawled all over her beautiful features, opening her mouth trying to say something before thinking better of it. I grinned, spilling out my broken sentences in an attempt to fix my broken heart and our torn relationship, trying to make her see sense once again.   
Once I finished, I reached forward, longing for her touch, but she flinched away, one lonely tear running down her cheek. I stopped, unsure of what I had done wrong, hoping she was simply emotional, but the devil on my shoulder told me there were other reasons.  
We must’ve stood there for two minutes, simply gazing at each other, before I finally met her reason, pain intruding every part of my being. He wrapped his arms around his waist, eyeing me strangely, before kissing the side of her neck, questioning the situation. I stared forward in shock, feeling a pit of nothingness form in my stomach, allowing the door to shut slowly in my face, drawing the warm light that had been previously flooding us leak away, taking with it my last straw of hope.

**I confessed to her I’m still in love but all I heard was nothing. I wanted words but all I heard was nothing.**


End file.
